What ever happened to your sneakers, anyway?
by serenelystrange
Summary: Sequel to Sneakers and Towels. Pure fluff. Parker gets back at Hardison, but he doesnt mind. Please review, :


Hardison hadn't expected this, though he probably should have. But that was the thing about Parker; she was always a surprise. It wasn't the fact that she appeared out of nowhere that surprised him. After all, that's kind of her thing. And it wasn't the fact that she was naked, again, when she appeared that surprised him. This wasn't so unusual for Parker either. He wasn't even surprised that she found her way into his apartment without his realization, because she seemed to have an uncanny ability to evade his technology; it was something he knew he should worry about, but couldn't bring himself to care. What did surprise him was Parker appearing in his shower, naked, while he was showering; consequently, also naked.

Hardison jumped and yelped when he registered the touch of something on his back, turning so quickly he nearly fell. When he saw Parker standing there, hands moving to his chest, he almost fainted in shock. Shock turned to confusion but confusion quickly turned to don't-give-a-damn, because there was a very naked, very wet, and very caressing Parker in his shower. Hardison tried to speak but his voice caught as her hands travelled down his chest to his waist, lightly brushing his hips. He tried to see an explanation in her eyes, but they were too busy roaming his body hungrily, as if unsure where to begin.

"Parker" he said firmly, but she appeared not to hear. "Parker!" he said louder this time. She finally looked up, and into his eyes. "Parker, not that I mind, really, I mean, I… whatever the exact opposite of mind is, that's what I'm feeling right now. But girl, what the hell are you doing here?" He faintly realized the water was getting cold, but there were more important issues right now, like hearing Parker's explanation.

"I figured you owed me a show after the thing in my bathroom last week." Parker shrugged, as if it was no big deal. She grinned, "Plus, I want to have sex with you. And I can see you want me too." Her gaze drifted down, smirk on her lips.

"Damn, Parker, of course I want you. But you could've just told me." He repeated her words from the previous week, "I trust you."

"Good to know," She replied in that voice she had that sounded almost like an echo, but was still somehow full of meaning.

All at once, they realized the water was freezing and hurriedly escaped the shower. Hardison wrapped his towel around his waist before enjoying the show of Parker, drying herself off and tossing the towel to the floor. Damn, but she made every action better, just by being her.

The kiss caught him completely off guard, which was extraordinary under the circumstances. And this kiss, this kiss wasn't anything like that kiss on the job, all those months ago. This kiss was enough to make him see stars, enough to make him dizzy. One second she'd been standing there, across the bathroom from him, as he leaned against the sink and just watched her. And then she was against him, and he hadn't even seen her move. Parker pulled away first, panting and grinning, flushed and beautiful.

"Let's go!" She bounced on her heels, and motioned toward his bedroom. And really, who was he to argue? He reached out for her hand tentatively and was immensely relieved when she linked her fingers through his, squeezing them gently. Somehow this small gesture calmed his nerves, assured him that she at least liked him, and was not just in need of a good night. Laughing at the wonderful absurdity of the whole situation, Hardison let her lead him to the bedroom, completely unsurprised to see she knew the way.

Parker awoke hours later, still curled up next to Hardison, his fingers just touching hers, even in sleep. She laughed, realizing that she felt good, really good, and she hadn't even needed to steal anything. Her laughter roused Hardison from sleep, who opened his eyes long enough to pull her back to him, where she settled her back comfortably to his chest, her hands resting on the arm that wrapped around her waist. Sighing contentedly, he asked something that had been on his mind for a while.

"What ever happened to your sneakers, anyway?" Parker tensed for a minute then relaxed back against him.

"The washing machine destroyed them." Hardison's mind flashed back briefly to the dent he'd seen in her washing machine, the sight made a lot more sense now. Absolutely not laughing, he made sympathetic noises and nuzzled her shoulder.

"Don't worry, if the big bad machine tries that again, I'll kick his ass." Parker laughed,

"The washing machine doesn't have an ass, Hardison." She rolled her eyes and continued,

"But if it did, I'm sure you could kick it." Hardison muttered something about damn right he could and the machine wouldn't know rinse from spin cycle once he was done with it, but he was mostly mumbling, falling back into sleep.

Parker turned to face him, smiling as she traced his face with her fingers. When she was here, she didn't feel the need to run, or hide. She felt normal but still herself, and it was a better feeling than anything she'd felt before.


End file.
